Phantom of the Opera
by Fallen4Cas
Summary: Based Loosely off the movie and the book, with SPN characters. THIS NEEDED TO BE DONE!
1. Prolouge

It was Paris in 1919. Sophistication was everywhere. The arts ruled the higher class life. It was then the Paris Opera house was at its most splendid. It was begun under the rule of the Empire, and finished under the rule of the Republic. When built they realized there would be major construction problems to contend with, the most prominent was the water. So foundations were set deep. Almost ridiculously deep some would say. The stage was vast. One of the biggest ever produced that allowed a 50 foot scenery board to be lowered and raised to depict whatever program was running for that period of time. The cellars which were made to hold scenery were cleared by eight separate steam powered water pumps. These pumps worked day and night for the duration of almost six months.

The floor was coated with three layers of cement followed by a layer of bitumen. The walls were equally durable being almost a yard thick. When the impressive frame was built they filled it with water, thinking that the sediment produced would seal it better than any worker could do himself.

Twelve years it took to complete the building. Twelve years from start to finish, but what a finish it was! The Paris Opera house was on every socialite's lips from London to Hong Kong. Dignitaries from all over the globe came to witness it in all its glory.

But before it was used as intended war as it is most want to do overcame the city. The Opera house was used as a barracks of sorts because of its sturdy foundation. The bottom of it was used as a mass storehouse and no one knows if all the items were removed, for one could get lost in the depths with little or no provocation. There were talks of moving walls, and vanishing doors. It was a mysterious place, and it came with its share of ghost stories.

One of its greatest accomplishments was the Grande Stairway. The arches were heavily adorned at carved with a precision that would make any sculptor weep.

The steps were made of the finest Italian white marble money could buy, Velvet draped the walls and huge ornate gold mirrors allowed the patrons a wide view of the mammoth entry way.

The most remarkable thing however was not the stunning décor. It was the fact that some said there was a lake and river that ran under the Paris Opera House: a river big enough to host a small boat. The bowels of the Opera house were lost, and few ever ventured down there for fear of never being seen again.


	2. Overture

The Paris Opera house is no longer splendid. Long ago did the masterpiece fall into the hands of decay. Now, there are hardly any dealings at all, and even fewer worth mentioning. This one however, this one was of grave import.

There was to be an auction today. An auction of the former theaters artifacts and props used in some of the most magnificent presentations even to this very day.

It was a blustery day. The hat of the nurse who exited the Model Fords back door was nearly taken away in a particularly healthy gust. Then came the driver who pulled out a wheel chair so that the third figure could sit down in it.

Up and down the broken marble stairs children ran playing tag in between the scorched railings. The man in the wheelchair smiled softly at the youth. The man was dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit with no expense spared. As the nurse rolled up the ramp, one of the only edifices that seemed to escape any damages at all they passed under a sign that read:

Vente Publique Aux Encheres

Public Auction Today

As they moved into what was once the grand hall, you could clearly see the decimation that had taken place. Pieces of the wall lay in great hulking slabs on the floor and spinning spiders had taken over every square inch of space. In fact it looked as though they were cleared out for this event just this day.

The man wondered if anything else besides the arachnids lurked in the shadows, or was it simply the shadows of his own mind whispering to him.

There was a booming voice that startled him from his dark thought. The auction was clearly already underway.

They were on lot 663 a poster of Hannibal. A good production as he recalled. The bidding was started at ten franks, but times were rough, and the auctioneer was forced to lower the opening bid to five.

The poster was sold for 8 francs and the next item was brought out. A pistol and skull statue from some production long forgotten.

A woman in her older years sighed in what could only be described as sheer boredom. She stared straight ahead, only slightly shifting when she felt more than saw the new comers. The elder man's head turned just slightly and his demeanor changed drastically. The old man looked positively frightened, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. The woman continued to stare listening as if waiting for something in particular.

The next item was brought forth. A music box with a monkey playing the symbols on top.

"Found in the vaults of the theater." The auctioneer announced. "Still in working order."

The man in the wheel chair motioned with just a look to his nurse that he was interested in the strange piece, but the elder woman's eyes crinkled in determination.

And the bidding began.

Fifteen francs was the opening bid, and the woman quickly raised her hand. The elder man told his nurse to bid twenty.

The woman politely raised her hand again.

"Madame Farris twenty five thank you." The auctioneer addressed turning back to the man trying to outbid her.

He again gestured to his caretaker and bids thirty.

The auctioneer turns once again to Madame Farris and asks "Thirty am I bid thirty?"

The woman looks sad, but shakes her head in acquiescence. The man in charge of the auction shouts "Thirty once. Thirty twice." He pauses taking one last look at Madame Farris and sees she is truly bowing out "Sold! To the Vicompte De Padalecki, thank you sir." The man said making a slight bow.

The music box was place in the Vicompte's shaking hands and he looks at it with a glint in his eyes.

It was a collector's piece indeed, and looked exactly as was described to him. The detail was absolutely stunning. An eerie thought passes through the man's mind as he wonders if the music will play even after he is dead or everyone for that matter.

The man in startled from his thoughts by lot 666. A chandelier in pieces. All the patrons' eyes shift to the back of the room, where several men are getting in position to remove a large cloth.

"Some of you may still recall the strange happenings of The Phantom of the Opera."

He said his voice carrying out across the vast hall.

"A mystery never fully explained. We're told ladies and gentlemen that this is the very chandelier that figures in the famous disaster."

The auctioneer was really getting into the dramatic role he was playing.

"Our workshops have repaired it, and wired parts of it, with the new electric light."

Gesturing with his hands he reaches the speeches climax.

"Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago. With a little illumination! Gentlemen?"

And the dust tarp is ripped off with a flourish. The woman pales visibly and looks to the side of the hall into the shadows and leaves quickly.

The giant chandelier bursts to life and is raised to the celling and as the monstrosity flares into its brilliance, Vicompte De Padalecki cannot help but shudder and recall the disastrous events of so long ago.


End file.
